


The Last Night

by monsterleadmehome



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Blow Jobs, F/M, First Time, Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleadmehome/pseuds/monsterleadmehome
Summary: During the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione goes up to the Astronomy Tower for a moment to herself. When Draco Malfoy happens upon her, the two share a heated moment that turns even steamier in the face of certain death.





	The Last Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elemie89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elemie89/gifts), [JustAnotherSailorScout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherSailorScout/gifts), [dreamsdescent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsdescent/gifts), [cupsofgreentea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupsofgreentea/gifts).



> Oh shit, I'm posting Dramione on Star Wars day. LOL.
> 
> Anyway... this is from my twitter post [here](https://twitter.com/monsterleadme/status/1124460167599411201). We have Battle of Hogwarts smut for Meg and Em, the BJ for Rach, and semi-public for Mia. <3

She kissed him. After so many years of dancing around the issue, who would’ve thought that his concern for the house elves would have been the catalyst that propelled her into his arms? Only, it wasn’t the kiss Hermione had been expecting. There were no fireworks. It was rushed, sloppy, wet, and altogether awkward. Even Harry had seemed to pick up on it.

She wipes at the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She thought Ron was _the one,_ but something about it just doesn’t feel right. Now isn’t the time to think about it, though. They’re on a deadline and soon enough Harry will walk willingly into the face of danger to hand himself over to Voldemort.

Just a few more minutes, that’s all she needs.

The astronomy tower is deserted, soothing. One could almost forget they’re in the midst of a battle. She takes another staggering breath as she stares out into the darkness.

“Granger?”

Hermione slowly turns around to see Draco Malfoy staring at her.

“What are you doing here?” she asks coldly.

Hadn’t they _just_ saved his life? Didn’t he already cause enough trouble?

“I—forget it, I’ll go.”

Something in the way his face falls makes her pause. “No, wait. Please stay.”

He quirks an eyebrow but continues his walk over, resting his arms on the railing beside her. He’s so close their arms are almost touching. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your private moment. I was just trying to get away.”

“Great minds think alike.” She says it with a scoff, but offers him a half smile. They’ve both been through a lot today and she’d rather not think about the fact that he would’ve been fine with her death only several hours earlier.

“I don’t actually believe in any of it, you know.”

This confuses her momentarily. “What?”

“Malfoys are notorious cowards. They go where the grass is greenest. I don’t—I don’t want to be my father. I don’t condone the actions of the Dark Lord. I hate that I have this stupid bloody tattoo on my arm.” He shoves his sleeve up and she can see the snake undulating like it’s underneath his skin. It’s unsettling.

“W—why are you telling me this, Malfoy?” The fire in his eyes is starting to scare her, but she finds she can’t look away.

“I figure if I’m about to die, I needed you to know that. Just once, I needed for you to know that I don’t hate you, and I’m so ashamed I watched while my aunt tortured you when I could’ve—could’ve—”

He’s nearly shaking by now, so Hermione touches his arm, her hand landing just near his mark. “It’s okay, Malfoy. I don’t blame you.”

He looks down at her hand on his arm, stunned momentarily. When he glances back up, she swears his grey eyes have gone almost completely black. “Call me Draco,” he says before slipping his hand behind her head and pulling her towards himself. His mouth is on hers before she can even process what’s happening.

Fireworks—a whole cartful of them—go off in Hermione’s brain at the contact.

His lips are full and soft, warm and not clammy the way Ron’s had been. His thumb digs into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, making her gasp. He takes advantage of her open mouth by sliding his tongue in and— _Oh_. Oh, this is new. She moans.

He pulls back for air, but rests his forehead against hers. They are both trying to catch their breath. “Well, Granger. I should’ve known you’d be fantastic at snogging, too.”

Except she knew she wasn’t. Besides Viktor and Ron, she hadn’t much experience. But no one had ever kissed her the way Draco just did. And it never felt _that_ good.

“Call me Hermione,” she says as she leans back in, kissing him first this time.

She’s snapped—that must be it. Because the world is ending, and Harry’s probably about to die, and who knows who else in the castle is still alive—but all she wants to be doing right now is snogging Draco Malfoy on top of the astronomy tower.

A sudden heat creeps through her lower abdomen and now she’s thinking about far more than just kissing. “Draco?”

“Hmm?”

His gaze is so tender and soft, she could almost forget that they’ve been enemies right up until—and possibly including—this moment. “I… want to try something.”

Merlin help her, she’s not sure why she’s doing it. But suddenly she’s on her knees in front of him and undoing the fly of his trousers. He’s already hard and it barely registers with Hermione as she frees his cock that this is, in fact, the first one she’s seen up close.

It’s bigger than she expected. Softer, too. The skin, that is, because the rest of it is definitely hard. She apparently spends too long studying it because Draco’s voice comes out shakily. “Hermione? Are you—”

She silences him with a lick over the head, tasting the dribble of pre-come that was there. It doesn’t taste of much beyond salt, and she decides she doesn’t hate it. She lets her tongue travel the length of him from base to head once more before taking him into her mouth. She knows what to do in _theory_ , but in practice it’s much different.

Draco hisses and a sharp pain shoots through her scalp as he yanks her by the hair. “Watch the teeth, Gr— _Hermione_.”

Right. She’s more careful this time as she relaxes her jaw to take him further. Draco moans and she smiles around him as best she can. She’s always been a quick study.

She finds a steady rhythm, head bobbing up and down, spit starting to drip down his length. She uses her hand around what she can’t fit in her mouth and figures he must be enjoying himself from the noises he’s making. Then with a start, he grabs her by the hair again, halting her movements. “Stop.”

She releases him slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want to come in your mouth.”

Hadn’t he just apologized to her? Did he still think her dirty? Her questions die as he hoists her back up to standing and pushes her up against the railing. He kisses her hard.

“I want to come inside you.”

“Yes,” she groans, unaware her voice could sound like that.

Draco makes quick work of her jeans and knickers. She steps dutifully out of them and he runs his hands up her bare thighs. “I’ve dreamed of this… so many times.” He admits it freely now, nothing left to lose.

His fingers slide into her folds and Hermione’s eyes roll back in her head. No one has ever touched her there. It feels incredible.

“You’re fucking drenched. Did sucking me off make you wet?”

She bites her lip to stifle her moan. “Y-yes,” she stutters.

His fingers are pumping inside her now, readying her for him. His thumb applies gentle pressure on her tight bundle of nerves. She really has snapped if she’s letting Draco finger her out in the open, where anyone could see. Somewhere in the forest below, Voldemort waits for Harry.

And right now on top of the astronomy tower, Hermione Granger is about to lose her virginity to Draco Malfoy.

“Draco, please,” she begs, feeling like she’s on the precipice already.

“Yeah, I think you’re good now.” He smirks, and for the first time she sees what a sexy expression it is on him. He takes out his wand and mutters an incantation. Her stomach glows very briefly.

A contraception charm. Assuming she lives, she’s glad he thought of it.

His hands grip her arse, lifting and pressing her further into the railing. She wraps her legs around him, and then he’s pressing in. It stings just a bit, but he covers her whimper with another searing kiss and she relaxes her hips more, allowing him to thrust all the way in.

She is being stretched—filled to the brim with Draco. It’s wrong, isn’t it? It should feel wrong. The way kissing Ron had felt wrong. But this doesn’t feel wrong at all. A tear escapes and falls down her cheek at how very _not wrong_ this feels.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. No, keep going.”

So he does. He rears back and drives back in—and it’s delicious. The heat. The friction. It’s almost too much. She feels it grow and tingle all along her spine as his hips meet hers, over and over. In. Out. In.

She comes with a ragged groan, her walls contracting violently around him. She’s had orgasms before—they were all by her own hand and felt shallow in comparison to the waves of pleasure that are currently wracking her body. She grips Draco’s shoulders tightly as she rides it out.

A minute later, he gives one last sharp thrust and grunts. She feels a warmth fill her as he spills his release.

“Fuck, Granger. _Hermione_. I never thought…” he leaves the rest unsaid, kissing her again before sliding out and placing her legs delicately back on the ground. When she’s fully clothed again, he looks deeply into her eyes and smooths the strands of sweat-soaked hair back from her face.

A commotion down below pulls them both back into the fight and away from each other.

 

* * *

 

Voldemort is dead.

Harry is alive.

And Hermione is no longer responsible for helping The Boy Who Lived see another day. They won. But oddly enough as she watches the people celebrating, it doesn’t feel like victory.

They are still burying their dead.

In a strange turn of events, it was Narcissa Malfoy who helped Harry deceive the Dark Lord after the last Horcrux was destroyed.

She thinks about this now as she scans the crowd for a head of white blonde hair.

He’s not there.

She tells Ron that while it was a nice idea, it probably wouldn’t work out. They spent so long building each other up in their minds that no one could live up to that standard. He doesn’t take it too hard.

Maybe it was a one time thing. A ‘we’re about to die so let’s shag like the world depends on it’ thing. But she can’t get Draco out of her head. His trial is set for a few months out and she’s slated to testify on his behalf.

A few months is too long to wait.

There are terrible memories for her at Malfoy Manor. Memories that are still so fresh she sometimes wakes up to the sound of her own screams. So it isn’t surprising that he appears before she can even reach the gates.

“What are you doing here?” he’s not angry—more like concerned.

“I’m not sure. I… couldn’t stop thinking about you. You just disappeared, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Aren’t you with Weasley now?” Draco has always been an expert at indifference, but even she can hear the jealousy in his voice.

“No, we—it was never going to work with Ron and me. Besides, I was rather hoping there was someone else.” She steps closer to him and he looks pained, like it’s the last thing he wants.

“Surely you’re not suggesting you and I actually have—”

“I want you, Draco. And don’t try to pretend you don’t want me, too.”

His mask falls. “Why? My name is all but ruined now, and you don’t know that they’re not going to lock me away in Azkaban.”

“I do know. I know they won’t because I’m testifying at your trial.”

“No.” He closes the distance between them, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. “Please don’t. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you. Don’t ruin it on my account.”

Her fingers comb through his hair as she stands on her toes to kiss him. “I don’t care about a future that you’re not in,” she whispers.

She isn’t sure how she managed to never see it before. It took both of them almost dying for her to realize how perfectly suited they are. She knows from his confession that he’s known for much longer.

He wraps her tightly in his arms and kisses her deeply. “I guess that can be arranged.”


End file.
